Royally Effed
by EmilyHelene
Summary: "Emma Carstairs. Two words that shouldn't have been able to wield the kind of power that they did. Royally fucked. Two words that basically described everything about his current situation." Unable to sleep, Julian does what he does best: paints and worries. Post CoHF but pre TDA, aged 16-17 One-shot. R&R, please!


**Royally Effed**

_a Mortal Instruments/Dark Artifices story_

**by EmilyHelene**

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_So I'm going through CoHF withdrawal as I finished the book on Friday and fell absolutely ass over tea kettle for Julian and Emma. This is what came of incessant fangirling. I don't own TMI or TDA and Cassandra Clare is a genius with the most incredible knack for creating strong, admirable, flawed characters that are very easy to fall in love with._

_I hope to be writing more of these lovely Shadowhunters in the near future._

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Emma Carstairs. Two words that shouldn't have been able to wield the kind of power that they did. Royally fucked. Two words that basically described his situation perfectly at all times.

It had been one of those nights. Try as he might, sleep evaded him. His eyes stung from exhaustion and without looking in the mirror, he knew that they were red-rimmed and dry. He rubbed at them, as if he could just wipe away all of his worries in that one swift motion. He was kidding himself, if anything.

Beneath him lay a massive canvas easily twice his size. With a careful hand and a thick pencil, he began the preliminary sketch of his piece. It didn't take him long to sketch it out; he knew his subject inside out and backwards. Every unmistakeable feature, every bit of _her_, from the hard set of her jaw to the twinkle in her dark eyes that she fought tooth and nail to hide.

His stomach grew tight; even thoughts of her these days sent him into a paralyzing frenzy. The only way to deal with it was to push through it, to paint through it. He mixed his colour with great ease, emptying small splotches of pigmented liquid onto a painter's palette and blending them until his desired shade began to take form.

It would take him hours to finish, he knew, and he was still working on getting her lips just right when the first rays of morning sunshine peeked through the glass, flooding the training room with an angelic glow. Under this new light, his portrait seemed to come to life. The painted face gleamed, turning the pale blond hair he had painted into a heavenly gold. It was one of his best pieces by far. Modest as he was, he could admit at least that.

The expression on her face was one of a warrior; it was brave, cunning, and headstrong all at once and highlighted all of the best things about her. Her limbs were long and lean, arms, legs, and chest roped with the lithe muscle of a Shadowhunter. Everything, down to the subtle twinkle in her eyes, was there on the canvas, portrayed with painstaking quality on such a simple medium.

He moved onto her runes next, carefully replicating each of them as carefully as possible onto her painted body. He drew her _parabatai_ rune last; the one that connected the two of them indefinitely was coincidentally the one that would part them forever. He loathed that rune as much as he held it dear. It was too—no. He had to stop this.

He couldn't carry on like that and for a moment, he entertained the idea of painting over the rune, erasing it from the piece and pretending that it didn't exist. That they hadn't already pledged an eternal oath to each other. That their love wasn't cursed.

_Their love?_ He was getting ahead of himself surely. _His _love for her. Deciphering her own feelings was one of the most difficult things that Julian could imagine ever doing. Getting Emma to put herself in a position of immense vulnerability without paying dearly was like trying to back a wild jungle cat into a corner and expecting to remain unscathed. Impossible. She was impossible. They were impossible.

"What are you painting, Jules?" Her voice broke through the cool morning air, freezing the blood in his veins. His heart raced as he hurried to cover up the painting, shielding it from view with his body, which proved to be somewhat unsuccessful.

"Oh this? Oh, nothing…" He started toward her, pushing her toward the main part of the training facility and away from his paints and canvases.

"Really? Because it looks a lot like me…" Emma said, wriggling out of his grasp and looking back at the painting. She gave him a knowing look.

"Well that would have something to do with the fact that it is a painting of you," he joked, pushing her arm playfully. She couldn't see it, but under that little touch was five years of pent up sexual frustration that would take a lot more to satisfy. Emma rolled her eyes, glancing again at the painting.

"It's brilliant as always, Jules." Her smile was as genuine as every part of her and the compliment went straight to his rapidly beating heart. His eyes felt like lead and by now, they had to have progressed from being simply pink around the edges to full on bloodshot. He felt like hell but the painting was done, at least, and he did feel at least a modicum of relief.

"Thanks, Em," he said, wiping his hands on his fraying jeans and leaving black streaks in their wake. He had painted it for himself, to calm himself down and give him something to do while the insomnia, frustration with the law, and stress of raising his family ate away at him. That being said, if she wanted it, it was hers. "I couldn't sleep." _I was too busy needing you. _

"So you did this instead?" She smiled at him, shaking her head. "Get some rest, Blackthorn. Training starts in an hour and I had hoped you'd put up at least some of a fight."

There it was, typical Emma. As she turned to walk away, he felt her fingertips ghost his shoulder. _I-L-O-V-E-I-T_ she wrote, a stood on her tip-toes to plant an innocent kiss to his cheek.

It took everything he had not to take her in his arms and kiss her in a manner that in no way, shape, or form platonic. Much like the painting, if she ever decided that she wanted him, he was hers.

As she turned to leave the room, he watched her go thinking to himself.

He was in so over his head and sooner or later it was going to fuck him over. Royally.

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_Thanks so much for checking this story out! If you liked it, I'd love to know all about it! Feel free to send me a PM or post a review. They really brighten a girl's day. (: _

_Happy Writing everyone!_

_EmilyHelene_


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